To Mend A Broken Heart
by BlackBird6295
Summary: Stan's heart is broken, his life torn apart after the divorce of his parents. When Kyle, Kenny and Cartman take the fate of their best friend in their own hands, can they fix him? Or will Stan be lost in darkness forever? Want a sorta long-term South Park drama? Here you go! Mainly Style. Warning: Super Best Friendship Drama, BoyxBoy, Strong Language.
1. The Canvas Heart

**A/N This is my first Style fic, so please go easy! Anyways, enjoy, guys.**

Tired eyes open to the sight of a bare ceiling, painted white, and walls painted a fair purple. He never liked that color. Purple just seemed too…feminine? Not exactly the kind of room that a little boy would find to his ideal interests.

He just stared at the ceiling, imagining that it was an empty canvas, blank and for the painting. He was always into art and stuff, but never really got around to honing it to the point of utmost confidence. When creating something, from an artist's standpoint, it will always suck no matter what you do. So he just stared at the blankness in front of his eyes, knowing that simple fact, yet failing to understand why it was true. He painstakingly yet numbly turned to his side, the only thing greeting him being the window that shone obnoxious sunlight into his cold eyes. He could already feel a headache coming on, _and_ it was annoying as hell, so he instead turned to the opposite side of the windowed wall to blankly stare at another whilst wrapping an arm around the pillow on which his head rested. The walls were stripped of anything and everything that used to bring any kind of diversity to his room. Empty holes where nails used to be, dust surrounding the spots where posters and picture frames used to adorn these lifeless purple walls.

The boy let his eyes hang half way shut, but never closing them, not even to blink. Staring at the walls, he thought…_it's empty. It's all empty._

His ceiling, his walls, his heart. Just like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on. What that painting is, well…he wouldn't know yet. But what he did know, was that when he finally paints on it, no matter what he does, in his eyes…it will be the worst thing he had ever created. No one will ever like it, see beauty in it. And try as he may, there will never be a damn thing he could do about it.

Without further ado, he blindly shut off the alarm clock next to him that he just noticed was ringing in his ear. Throwing his hand on the button lightly, he hit mistakenly the one picture he had left in the room, which always sat on the nightstand. It crashed to the floor and he just closed his eyes in worthless frustration. Realizing what he had done, he rolled over and reached his arm down under the bed to pick up the frame, which now housed cracked glass right down the middle and in a few other places, much to his inner dismay. The photograph was of him and his best friend, Kyle Broflovski. Stan managed a light smile, looking down at the picture, which he now had in both hands, resting on his lap. Kyle had his arm slung comfortably around Stan's shoulder, with his other hand throwing up a peace sign. Stan was laughing joyously in the picture, looking at his friend who was looking at the camera with a great big grin and winking an eye. Stan finished looking at the picture. He looked from the photo back up and out the window again, this time the sunlight not being as troublesome as before.

He put his feet on the carpet and laid the broken frame to rest back on the nightstand. Hobbling tiredly over to the window, he once again was greeted by the sight of a moving van parked outside and loaded up. He looked at it for a few moments, observing the two guys who were chit chatting over a hot cup of coffee, probably waiting for the ready to take off with the truck to whatever location it was going to.

Stan just kinda looked at them with a blank expression on his face, and an emotionless state of mind before slowly shutting his blinds, extinguishing all light from his room, except for what little light bled through the cracks. He walked over to his door, retrieving a change of clothes hanging from it. He pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed the new one, a plain white tee. Next he grabbed his jeans, and threw them on along with his brown jacket and socks. Lastly, there was his hat. He picked it up, felt it in his hands for a bit, and put it on, concealing his jet black hair.

Grasping the doorknob, he let himself out of the dark box he felt he was trapped in, and walked through the empty hallway to the stairs, which he descended half-heartedly while staring at whatever happened to catch his eye, which wasn't much. So he continued down the stairs as if they were merely in his way. Walking into his kitchen, he saw his mother, Sharon sitting there with a cup of coffee. His father had already moved out, and Sharon couldn't be more at peace. Couldn't be more oblivious.

**Stan's POV**

"Good morning Stanley." She said brightly yet calmly.

I just looked over to her as I passed by to the counter, returning the greeting generically. I reached up for the cabinet door to get a pack of pop tarts, which I had grown accustomed to over the past couple weeks. After the divorce, we naturally stopped cooking family breakfasts. Though it only happened like once a week, it was still something I just now realized I missed so much that it hurt, like everything else.

Mom sat there with her coffee, clasping it in both hands as she stared into thin air, pondering to herself.

"You know that it's 11:30 right?" She asked out of the blue, not even making eye contact with me.

I turned my head from the cabinet to look at her, then also into thin air for a moment before apologizing for sleeping in. As if there was anything to get up to. I didn't care, it's not like I'm missing anything, all the days are the same, and they're long.

"Sorry." I said as mom just repositioned her head casually, still staring out into nothing.

"Thought I might as well sleep in." I finished, turning back to the cabinet to get my pop tarts.

"Well lucky for you, everything's already packed up, so I didn't need any help this morning."

_Yeah. Lucky me._

I snagged the pop tarts and keys to the house before once again turning my back on my mom for the eighth day in a row, heading outside to go wherever. Just as long as it wasn't here.

"Oh Stanley, you won't be needing those house keys anymore, they're being turned over this afternoon back to the landlord" She blurted out when she saw the keys in my hand.

I just turned for a moment, looked at the keys in my hand, and looked back up at her as I carelessly tossed them onto the table in front of her.

"Bye mom. I'll be back later."

"Ok, just make sure you have the address of the new place. We'll be there by tonight, once the movers pack up the rest of this stuff."

"Ok."

And with that, I left the house, taking to the streets of South Park.

I walked a couple blocks so far, on my way to Stark's pond. I always hang out there now on my own to just think. It's all I've really done for the past week, ever since my parents got divorced. I occasionally brought some booze there that I got off my friend Kenny McCormick. He thought I was just having some fun at first, but when I asked for more and more of the stuff, I guess he thought something was up so he cut me off. We haven't really crossed paths in a while, like a week or so. I passed so many places in town and flashbacks of all the things I've done just came to me nonstop. All the adventures, the heartbreaks, the laughs, everything just swallowed me up all at once and I was able to manage a small smile. I ask myself if these flashbacks are starting to become my only source of happiness, an unrivaled high. I feel more loved by myself right now than I do by my own mom and dad. If nothing else is fucked up, _that_ is.

I finally reached the pond, assuming my usual spot on a log that sat directly in front of the lake facing in the direction in which the sun sets. I jammed my hands in my pockets, and caught the icy breeze on my face as I looked to the sky. How it could be so blue, I wondered. I looked into the pond in front of me, eying my reflection, ever so still with the calmness of the water. The sight of myself only made me feel worse, somehow. As if even my own shadow has turned against me. Regardless, I kept watch over it for a while, just thinking to myself, as I always do these days. I've been out of school to help move my own parents out and away from each other, and still haven't gone back after two weeks.

They called it an extended leave of absence due to family conflict, yeah. How god-damn accurate. I threw a stone into the water, watching it plunge through my face and create a ripple effect that made the rest of me unrecognizable. Once again, regardless, I stared, eyes hanging halfway closed.

That's when I heard something behind me. For me, it's hard to believe. It seemed like everything lately has just kept me away from the outside world. It was me, myself and I. And much to my own surprise, I don't even look. I could give a shit who it was, and I hated how that is what I felt.

"…Stan?" the voice questioned.

It was at this point where I recognized the voice, but only turned a little bit to confirm my suspicions. Kyle.

"Stan? What are you doing out here? It's freezing!" He said, walking closer. Little does he know that I really could care less if it was cold; I felt colder in my empty shell of a house that I used to call home. I just realized that I haven't replied nor even really looked at Kyle yet. Knowing this and not wanting to dis him, I turn and give him a welcoming smile, or at least whatever smile I could manage, which obviously wasn't very convincing since the look on Kyle's face screamed that he knew there was something wrong. Oh Kyle, always the perceptive one.

Without another word coming from his mouth, Kyle walked the rest of the way to me, and stood diagonally in front of me, giving me this concerned look that he always gives.

"Hey Kyle." I say, looking up to meet his gaze.

"…Hey Stan," Kyle said, "mind if I sit?"

I just moved over a bit, signaling that I didn't mind at all. He sat and stared into the water with me for a bit. After a moment, he decided to break the silence.

"So everyone's missed you at school." Kyle said. I just kept looking forward, not making any kind of comment. Just a twitch of my lips to show that I acknowledged his statement.

I could feel him still looking at me, silently trying to grab my attention. It was so quiet outside, right here, in this moment. It felt intoxicating. He broke the stare and looked down toward the ground, probably thinking of something else to say.

"I've missed you." He said finally.

I looked to him, watching him stare at the ground, then bring his eyes back to meet mine. God I missed those eyes. Kyle always had brilliant ones. Comforting ones. Eyes that even though I didn't want to admit it, I really needed them right now.

"Thanks." I said in a hushed, choked tone. A few moments passed again before I spoke up.

"Kyle, I'm sorry that I haven't been there, you know, with you or the rest of the guys."

"Don't be sorry dude, we all understand." He returned. "It's just that…well, I've been worried for my best friend." He finished.

That brought a glimpse of light to my heart. A warmth that I haven't felt in what seemed like an eternity. I let a smile slowly spread for a moment, which resulted in Kyle spreading one of his own.

"I'm tired, Kyle…" I choked out. "I'm so tired…" I looked back out at the pond, staring back into that unforgiving reflection again, feeling my eyes start to water when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "I know, Stan…I know."

I shut my eyes tight, fighting back the tears I knew were on their way, but failing as I let one slip out and let it run down my cheek. I lightly brushed his hand off my shoulder, which earned me a small, miniscule gasp from him.

"No Kyle, you don't know," I said, "and every day I pray to God that you'll never know." I weakly choked out that last part. I could feel Kyle's sorry gaze pierce through me as he sits next to me. I can't make eye contact, it's too painful.

"Stan…please talk to me. It'll make you feel better," he paused when he saw me shake my head, "even if it's just a little."

"And how are you going to do that!?" I started yelling when I brought my eyes back to his now slightly frightened ones. The fact that I'm probably scaring him makes me feel worse but I can't control it. I just hope I don't scare him away.

"All my life," I continued, "I was happy, with a happy family, and now…" I bury my face into my hands and continue to sob. "And now…now all I can do is think that if I had just taken the God damn time to do something about my parents fighting-"

Kyle put a hand on my back. "Stan, there's nothing you could've done. Please don't blame yourself for it."

"How can I not?" I release my face for a moment. "Please, Kyle! I would fucking love to know! All they ever argue about is me, I'm the problem. I've always _been_ the problem!"

Kyle's expression is nothing short of heartbroken.

"Sometimes I think that they'd be better off if I was just dead." Stan let out in defeat, succumbing to his emotions.

"Stan." Kyle said. I looked over to him and he nestled my head into his two hands, locking me into his gaze. I lost all train of thought and could only look into his eyes. They made me think of how lost I really am. Made me reflect on my decisions and my sorrow and realize what a fool I've been all this time. His eyes had brought me back to reality with just one look, and only Kyle could do that.

"You are loved." He continued. "Your parents will always love you. They split up. Because they wanted the best for you." He said, and I struggled. Shaking my head and breaking out.

"If they love me how could they do this to me? How could they do it Kyle? _How could they do it?_" I sobbed as I threw myself into his chest, and cried to him as his arms held me in, keeping me safe from the world.

"Shhhh…" Kyle said as he nestled his head on top of mine, which was still huddled in his chest.

"Stan, it's ok…I'm here…it's ok…" Kyle consoled and cried a bit with me, and it really did make me feel so safe, more than he could possibly imagine. We stayed like that for a while, and I settled down, just lying there in his arms.

"No matter what happens…" Kyle said, "No matter what." I looked up at him. "I will stay with you…always."

And just like that, I felt the first genuine smile I've had in weeks. "Thank you Kyle…" I hushed and looked up to him, noticing the tears that also stained his delicate face.

"For everything."

He simply smiled back at me. A comforting smile that said that everything will be alright. For a moment, I felt that I could stay like that forever.

**Thanks for reading guys! So it's 1:30 AM, I think I'm gonna go to bed. Hope to hear back from you guys in the reviews, and I'll seeya next time! Peace.**

**~Blackbird**


	2. Shattered

**A/N To all who followed and favorite, thank you so much! You guys make me want to keep writing, so write I shall! Anyways, here's the next chapter. I must say it gets kinda angsty at the end, so you have been warned. Hope you enjoy!**

**Stan's POV**

I spent all night thinking of my experience at Stark's Pond. How much better I felt afterwards, and finally how lucky I really was to have a friend like Kyle. He has always been there for me, and we could _always_ talk about the weirdest stuff without feeling the least bit awkward or alienated. We laugh together, and we cry together. We understood each other, and we flock to each other's side whenever one of us needs it. That is our friendship, and that is my light.

So I lay there in my bed, taking in the new surroundings. Mom had bought a house in a neighborhood that sat in the outskirts of South Park, but close enough to where I could still go to school at South Park Elementary. The place was honestly such a breath of fresh air, only because it wasn't the old place. Sure I was uplifted enough yesterday to actually notice the nice new scenery, but I really only cared about the fact that I was away from the moving trucks, and the barren halls of my old house. The home whose walls had seen countless fights, heard many cries, and saw many tears. It relieved me to think that it was all gone.

I reached over, shutting off my alarm clock before it went off. Since I was already awake anyway, and the unnecessary noise would just put me in a morning mood that nobody, even myself, liked. At the same time, I lifted up my iPhone and saw that it was 6:47 a.m. I ignored the clock shining in my squinted eyes which were trying to adjust to the brightness of the screen, noticing that I had a text from Kyle and another from Kenny.

_Kyle Broflovski: hey dude ya feelin better? just checking_

I smiled at that. See? Kyle and I care so much for each other, that even after I leave the pond happier than I was by a long shot, Kyle still checks, just in case.

_Kenny McCormick: hey Stan, Kyle says you were feeling kinda down yesterday. Says he was worried about you, so that means I am too! Wanna chill soon?_

I slide the text from Kenny from my home screen into the 'Messages' app and begin my reply. Wow, it's been such a long time since I've texted anybody. I kinda feel like an asshole about it too. People other than Kyle and Kenny tried to contact me in the past couple of weeks too, and I didn't reply to a single one. Maybe I'll thank everyone in school, or at least whenever I get back to school.

_Yeah dude, totally wanna hang out. You guys are the best._

I clicked send to Kenny, feeling better about myself, and so thankful to Kyle. Ever since I talked to him yesterday, it's almost like I could put the divorce behind me and kinda socialize a little bit again. But just a little. The pain still burned in my heart like wildfire that couldn't be extinguished. Not even by Kyle, I'm afraid…not Kyle, not my parents, not anyone. Distracting me from my thoughts, I immediately got a reply from Kenny, which was a surprise to say the least. Even at 6 in the morning Kenny was awake. Guess he couldn't sleep either.

_Kenny McCormick: cool man! What do u wanna do?_

_Wow that was fast. Up early I see._

While waiting for the next text, I looked over at my clock, which now read 6:50. The picture of Kyle and me caught my eye again though. Dammit, I really need a new one, I can't believe I broke it. I picked it up regardless of the glass that may or may not cut my hand, and I peered at the picture and smiled lightly again, wiping some dust covering Kyle's face. Upon clearing the dust from my friend's face, I had cut my finger with a shard of glass. Dammit, knew that was gonna happen…

I put the finger in my mouth, cleaning the blood away. The taste of iron plagued my tongue, and also stung my wound. Made it burn. I slid my finger out of my mouth, examining it closely. It was a cut going vertically down my thumb. It wasn't bad, but still a cut. I pressed on it, applying a bit of pressure purely out of curiosity and a bit of blood oozed from it again. Dammit. I cleaned it off again and just laid my hand back onto the frame, clutching it as if I were to never let go. I observed it with a pale face for a bit longer before hearing my phone vibrate again. I picked it up to see another message from Kenny.

_Kenny McCormick: yeah, well it's..never mind. complicated. Wanna hang out at the courts? Kyle's coming, I don't think Cartman is._

I guess some time with friends would do me some good. Who knows, maybe the burning will cease for the afternoon. I can only hope.

_Yeah, sounds good_

With that, I switched conversations to Kyle, who I just now realized I hadn't replied to yet. His message was sent at 8:30 last night. Aw man that made me feel bad. 8:30 was a reasonable time to text someone. I should've replied, but I was exhausted from the move.

_Yeah, thanks to you. Thanks for checking, it means so much, really._

That was sort of a lie, I am nowhere near better, but still Kyle's attempt help tremendously and I am so grateful to him for it. A few minutes passed before I got another vibration from my phone, immediately checking, for some reason hoping to God that it was Kyle. It was weird, it was almost like time and space stopped when I got a text from Kyle, and I have no idea why.

_Kyle Broflovski: anytime dude. I'm just glad you're ok. You coming to hang out with me and Kenny at the basketball courts? _

_Yep_

_Kyle Broflovski: cool! Seeya there :D_

And that was the end of it, which made me sad since any kind of word from Kyle put a small smile on my face. Seeing that the clock was 7:14, I got out of bed, got dressed in my usual outfit, and walked downstairs, hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Good morning Stanley." Mom greeted me as I walked into the room. It felt like déjà vu.

"Morning mom." I said, still pretty generically. I was starting to treat her like my mom again, and not some witch. Treating her like a huge bitch iss actually more painful for me than it is for her. The scary part is that I had no idea why.

"I'm gonna hang out with Kyle and Kenny later."

Mom put this pleasant yet subtly surprised look on her face. "Well, ok. Where will you be?" She asked, sounding a bit uplifted.

"The basketball courts." I said through my teeth, which were clenching the band aid wrapper for my thumb. I wrapped it snuggly around my thumb, after I cleaned it with some rubbing alcohol.

"Did you get a cut?" She asked, immediately noting the band aid.

"Yeah just a small one, not too bad."

"Ok, just making sure." She said, trying to act all caring again. I just continued patching myself up, paying special attention to wrapping it around my thumb with more pressure than necessary. I grabbed some breakfast, and went back up to my room.

I turned on the TV and started watching Terrance and Phillip. Re-run. Again. Whatever, even though I've seen pretty much all of the episodes by now, they were still mind numbing enough to grant me a recess from the horrible world I grew to know. I grasped my breakfast plate in my hands, pressing especially firmly on the thumb I cut myself on. It still burned, but I didn't mind. Putting pressure on it felt nice. The sting turned to a more concentrated burn in the small crevice with the pressure, and it felt like more of a warmth than a sting at this point. It felt really fucked up that I liked this feeling, but I pursued it regardless. It's not like I get a lot of comfort these days anyway.

**Normal POV**

Terrance and Phillip continued in the background, light from the TV glistening the delicate features of Stan's face. He continued eating his breakfast, eyes glazed over in thought, not even really seeing the show in front of him.

He glanced back at the picture of him and his super best friend. After a few moments, he picked it up and brushed some loose glass shards onto his lap. The picture was clearer now that there were no spider cracks spreading on top of it, but the split in the glass that divided Stan from his friend remained. His gaze shifted from the photo to the glass which now adorned the plate beneath him as well as his lap. He picked up a slightly jagged piece carefully, and examined it, rotating and turning it slowly until he saw the light reflection of half of his own face painting the shard, and all he could do was stare. Stare at the broken person he'd become. Stare at the half of his face that seemed to be the only half of himself that remained. Even with the temporary retreat gifted to him by his best friend, the memory of it slowly slipped from him. With that, he felt himself once again slipping into darkness. Reaching desperately for the happiness which he so longed for what seems like an eternity. An unknown happiness that though he couldn't point out, he knew deep down he would never reach regardless. A tear was shed. Shed for himself, for his family, for his friends, and most of all, it was a tear shed for Kyle.

Kyle meant everything to Stan, he was his light, a light that seemed slowly fading, becoming swallowed by the same darkness that consumed himself. The world went silent, it went dark. Stan was all alone once again, left with nothing but the shattered reflection he saw before him. For a moment he thought of Kyle, of all the things they had done, the friendship they'd forged over time, and finally, the thought of him by his side.

Always there for him, always comforting him. And Stan was about to betray all of it, for the sake of being released from this void of confusion, loneliness, and despair. He hated himself for betraying Kyle.

And he knew…Kyle would hate him too.

He brought the shard down, unable to look at himself any longer. He closed his eyes, which were swelling with his tears. Tears fallen from what remained of his shattered life. He thought of Kyle, feeling his warm embrace around him, hearing his loving words flow through his mind and into his heart, and clenched his teeth, letting one more tear fall as darkness took him.

_I'm sorry Kyle…_

With that, he felt a rush of cold and turned numb, as the shard of glass drug across the pale flesh of his arm. Silence took him. Gazing one last time at the picture of his best friend, all turned to black.

**A/N – Thanks for reading everybody, wow that last part actually hurt me to write. What will happen? Next chapter will be up soon. Please review, I always love hearing feedback from you guys. Seeya next time!**


	3. Kyle's Resolve

**A/N – Hey everybody! I'm back with the next chapter (the longest one yet btw). I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, and I hope some of you review! Anyways, here's the chapter. Peace!**

**~Chapter 3 - Kyle's Resolve~**

Nothing had struck so hard in his life. Nothing had impaled his heart more deeply. Nothing could create such a black hole swelling in his stomach except for this one thing. So he ran.

_**FLASHBACK**_

_This morning, Kyle woke to a sunny day, ready to hopefully start anew. He looked at his phone, hoping to hear back from Stan, since he sent him a text last night. He needed the closure that Stan was going to be alright, or at least better. To his disappointment, there was no reply. Resting the phone back on his bedside nightstand, Kyle laid there, motionless and thinking to himself, of only his best friend. _

_**Kyle's POV**_

'_Man, he was really messed up yesterday. Well, can't blame him. His parents were divorced and he probably thought that it was his fault. Honestly, knowing his mom and dad, they probably meant for him to think just that.'_

_I laid there for about a half hour, dozing in and out of sleep before my phone vibrated. I reached over, picking it up and squinting my eyes to see the reply. It was from Stan. Immediately, my heart jumped, because I needed to know he was ok. Stan was, at this point, my number one priority. I mean, the fact that he's texting back at all means that he cares enough to give me that closure…right?_

_Stan Marsh: Yeah, thanks to you. Thanks for checking, it means so much, really._

_The feeling I got from that seemed to make all of my fears and worries go to rest. There is nothing more satisfying and brightening than knowing that I had helped my best friend, even if it was just a little bit. Baby steps. _

_Maybe I should ask him to hang out with me and Kenny today. He seemed like a black hole that sucked everything into his world, which he perceived as shit, but he was still my friend. Maybe a little dose of normality would do him some good._

'_anytime dude. I'm just glad you're ok. You coming to hang out with me and Kenny at the basketball courts?'_

_Stan Marsh: Yep_

'_Cool! Seeya there :D' I replied._

_That was it. I was relieved to know that Stan was going to come out and hang with me and Kenny, maybe he's starting back on the road to socializing again. It was still early though, and we were hanging out in the afternoon, so I fell back to sleep. _

_About 3 hours later, I was woken by my mother's frantic voice. She always sounded obnoxious, it makes me wonder how she had any friends. Horrible to think about, but true nevertheless. I heard the muffled speech bleeding through the door, but it was hard to discern what it was that mom was talking about. Or rather, what she was kinda freaking out about. More muffles came through my door until I was able to barely catch one thing:_

"_Sharon, calm down. Sharon, it's alright, he'll make it through!"_

_At that, I froze. Sharon was Stan's mom's name. What were they talking about someone making it through something? I thought that Stan's dad moved out, and Stan was living alone with his mom? Last time I checked, that's what was going on, so who could his mom be talking abou…Oh My God. _

_I burst through the door, and ran downstairs, the cold floor freezing my bare feet as I bolted down the hallway, but I didn't even notice it. All that was on my mind was:_

_Please don't be him_

_Please don't be him_

_Please…don't be…_

_My heart was growing heavy with unbearable fear. Continuing downstairs, I kept hearing my mom's voice consoling the person on the other end of the call._

"_Sharon, everything's gonna be ok, you need to calm down." Mom said._

_*static* "Easy for you to say Sheila, your family is doing fine!" *static*_

"_Sharon, I know you're worried but please stay with me here, he will be ok, the doctors said so! I'll call you later to check up on you, ok?"_

_*static* "…Ok. Thank you Sheila." *static*_

"_You're very welcome Sharon, hang in there sweetie."_

_*static* "…yeah." *static*_

_I finally couldn't take it anymore; something was up. Once I heard the phone click back into place on the receiver, signaling the end of the call, I turned the corner into the kitchen, now standing in the center of the doorway, appearing in front of my mother. _

"_Hey buubie, what's the matter?" She said quite normally. I could feel my face instantaneously forming a concerned, no-nonsense look as I said, "What's wrong mom." _

_I said it in more of a declaration more than a question. I couldn't help it, I needed to know and I needed to know now. My mom gave out a weak sigh before accepting that I wasn't going to stop until I had answers. _

"_You…you heard the phone call, didn't you." _

_I nodded solemnly. This earned a sigh from my mother._

"_Ok Kyle, I didn't want to worry you, and I'm sorry that you had to hear that conversation, seeing that you don't know the full story." She continued as I stood solid as a rock, brows furrowed, listening intently._

"_Mom, what is it. What's wrong with him, mom?" I asked, intensity in my voice rising, but nowhere near escalating in volume._

"_Kyle, buubie…first I want to let you know that your friend Stan is ok as of now," she began, knowing immediately that I knew that Stan was the topic of the phone call. My heart stopped with Stan's name. So it __**was**__ him…no…_

"_Ok mom," I tried to stay somewhat collected. It was the best thing to do in this situation, hard as it was. "Please tell me, what happened?" I finished, slightly choking on my words._

"_Kyle, this morning, around 2 hours ago, Stan tried to…" She hesitated as my eyes grew wide, dreadfully anticipating what she was going to say._

"_Stan tried to kill himself." She finally said, her heart breaking reiterating the news to her son. One of the hardest things to do to your child._

_I stopped. All the world turned to silver glass as I stood, horrified and alone; nothing else mattered in life. I felt trapped, bound to drown as my heart sank to the depths of the sea. I shut my eyes tight, and reopened them, and I prayed. I prayed for the assurance that it was all just a really bad dream. I did this a couple times, but then finally gave up. No dream. This was real…_

_Stan…_

_Why did you…_

_My teeth clenched as hard as my fists as I stared at the ground, then looked directly into my mother's eyes._

"_Where is he."._

"_He's at Hell's Pass Hospital, but I wouldn't—Kyle!" Mom yelled as I immediately flew past her toward the foyer, where I proceeded to throw on my green ushanka and shoes. Not even bothering to change, I just grabbed my usual orange jacket, not even bothering to zip it as I slipped it over my Terrance and Phillip pajamas. I bolted out the door, sprinting down the street toward the hospital._

_**END OF FLASHBACK**_

The morning light was blinding, but I ran. I kept running, feeling no pain, feeling nothing at all. I only prayed that I would be able to see my best friend for myself. I _need_ to know if he's alright.

"_I'm tired, Kyle…I'm so tired…"_

I ran through the empty streets, hearing Stan's words piercing my heart like a thousand spears. Couldn't I help him? Didn't I help him? At all? Before I even knew it, the blinding light disappeared, replaced by crude fluorescent lighting. I began to hear the ambient sounds of IV machines and telephones, but Stan's voice remained regardless.

"_No Kyle, you don't know! And every day I pray to God that you'll never know…"_

There were sounds of rustling of papers and conversations amongst families that were collected in communes all around the emergency room. I tried to calm myself down just a little bit, and it took all my might to do so as I made my way toward the receptionist's desk.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" I asked as calmly as I could manage, but it still sounded rushed, forced, and frantic, which I can't really blame myself for.

"Yes dear, what can I do for you?" She replied with an equal amount of urgency in her voice, as if she immediately understood my situation.

"Please, it's an emergency, where is Stan Marsh? He was admitted this morning, probably around 2 hours ago." I explained as she gave me a concerned look.

"And who are you if I may ask?" She inquired. My God, as if it mattered.

"I'm his best friend."

"Ok, he's in room 154 on the 5th floor. Good luck." She said caringly. I thanked her as I ran to the elevators. I stepped inside, slamming the button for the 5th floor with the side of my balled fist, and staggered back to the wall of the elevator. My hands found the railing that was bolted to the wall and grasped it extremely firmly. It almost hurt to grab onto them so tightly but this feeling in my stomach is just too much to bear, and I can't help it.

"_Thank you Kyle…For everything…"_

I close my eyes and feel my eyes water. The elevator was painfully slow, and I grasped the railing with what felt like all my might as I fought back my tears with no success.

_Stan…why did you do this?_

"Why?" I said to myself as my voice trembled.

The elevator finally opened on the fifth floor after what seemed like years and I sprinted out, taking off toward room 154. I made my way through the hospital staff which were crowding the hallways. I ripped through everybody like a train through cattle. _Nothing_ is going to stop me, and I think by now, everybody knew it, as they just started to clear the way. Finally I reached the room, grasping the doorknob, and about to recklessly barge my way in, but something stopped me. _I _stopped me.

_What if he's not ok? What if he's…_I let a tear cross my eyelid and flow down my cheek. I shook my head, clenching my teeth once again, this time harder than I ever had, as I twisted the doorknob, finally regaining my strength and throwing the door open.

That's when I saw him. And that's when my fears were realized. This…this was real…

Stan lay on the reclined hospital bed, hooked up to an IV machine and heart rate monitor. The tubes from the IV were flowing with blood straight into Stan's tiny body. They seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive, and that made me sick. I shifted my gaze downward to see his arm, wrapped in gauze 2 inches thick around the entire arm. My eyes darkened. That was it. He must have…

Sharon and Randy were both in the room, as were two doctors, and they were all staring at me with this look as if they were unprepared with what to say, and seemed to be more scared for me than they were for their own son/patient.

"Son, you can't be in here, I'm sorry, immediate family only." The one doctor approached me with a somber look on his face, which me the urgent and deeply frightened look on mine. He and the other doctor proceeded to escort me out of the room.

"No, you can't!" I frantically said, pleading the doctor.

Without a word from either of them, they started blocking my view of my best friend and pushing me through the doorway.

"No, stop! Please!" I yelled.

They continued to push me, and grab on to my flailing arms in an attempt to restrain me. That's when Randy and Sharon stood up. The doctors however, said nothing as they continued to try and subdue my movements.

"I said let go of me! I need to see him! I need to see him!" I continued to yell and plea.

"Fucking let go of me! STAN!" I cried out.

"That's _enough_!" Randy boomed as both of them turned to face him and Sharon, who at this point was clutching her face with her hands in a defensive yet frightened position. The two men let go of me and I ran past them, past Mr. and Mrs. Marsh, straight to the only one who mattered to me.

I knelt down at his bedside, appalled at what I saw before me. My best friend, mutilated and unconscious in a hospital bed. This is when it got to me. All of it hit me _hard_ in one fell swoop. I could feel my lips tremble and my eyes squint in pain as a laid my gaze upon Stan's closed eyes. He looked so peaceful, but I knew…he wasn't.

"..S..Stan?" I sniffled. "Stan, I'm here…" I felt my words come out in bits and pieces as I became washed over with my own emotions, and I took his unbandaged hand in mine.

"Stan…why? Why did you do this?" I asked imagining that I would get a response. But that's all it was, my imagination. Stan was unconscious, and I knew he couldn't hear me, but then again, I have faith that somehow…someway…he knew.

"I found him in his room like this…" Sharon began to explain. I didn't want to make her or force her to do so. Stan was her child. Repeating and reliving that experience…finding your child like this…I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

"I kept calling him and calling him from downstairs…when he never replied, I went to look for him, and…" She trailed off as Randy took her in a warm embrace as she cried into his chest.

"Stanley…he cut himself. Real bad, Kyle." Randy continued where Sharon had left off, and a noticeable but muffled wail was heard from her as she pressed herself deeper into Randy's embrace.

I felt my heart rate increase, my lungs seize up, and my brain flash a million scenes before me. A million questions, all at once. That was it, I began to cry.

"He will be ok. We were able to treat the wound just in time, and he lost _a LOT_ of blood. There's no telling how long he was alone up in his room like this. He is currently sedated and resting comfortably on pain killers from the stitches we gave him, and will wake up in a few hours." The doctor explained.

All of this was too much. I turned back to Stan, hand still in mine. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning through the back of my head, but I didn't care. It felt…loving. Supporting. All I could do was stare at my friend's lifeless, pale face which looked like it belonged in a morgue. The very thought of it made me want to throw up on the floor right then and there. I could feel my breathing escalate, like I was having a panic attack or something. Whatever it was, it didn't feel good at all. I turned toward the nightstand next to his bed, which held a glass of water, condensation dripping on the sides of the glass as a result of the ice that must've melted in there some time ago.

I looked slightly to the right of it and noticed a familiar sight. A picture of Stan and me. I picked it up, examining it, feeling my heart rate drop and my breathing calm down. For a moment I mustered a smile.

_Of all the things he could wake up to…_

"That picture," Sharon said, her tears subsiding, "he has had that picture on his nightstand for the longest time…"

I looked at Sharon with the look of a curious and questioning child. "He…He has?" I looked back down at him, his expression unchanged.

"Yes…When I found him this morning, the frame was broken, and that picture was clutched to his heart." Sharon finished, bringing the rest of that sentence to a whisper.

I must have the most hopeless face on anyone in the world right now.

_He did it thinking of me…? But…Stan…_

I ran a hand through Stan's raven-like hair and brought the hand to rest on the back of his head, holding him there as I looked at his peaceful face. A face that belonged to someone who would never so this to himself. Never…

I brought my forehead and lightly placed it on Stan's chest.

_No matter what happens…no matter what…I will stay with you…always._

Thinking of the last time I spoke with Stan at Stark's Pond, I rested my head on his chest for a while.

_I will make this right Stan. I will fix you…I promise._

"When will he be awake? A couple hours?" I asked, turning to the doctor, finally feeling a bit more collected than before.

"Yes. He should be awake by 5:00 tonight." The doctor replied.

"Ok," I said, "Then I will stay. I will stay for however long it takes."

I turned to Sharon and Randy, who were holding each other in the bedside chairs, and they were looking at me as if I were their last hope. The last light in both of their lives. It made me feel good; if they can't be there for Stan all the time, at least I could. And a part of me knew that that's what their gaze was trying to convey to me.

"Thank you, Kyle." Randy said, Sharon still quiet, but showing the same gratitude by a nod of the head and a smile of mild relief.

"Thank you so much."

The waiting room was dark, and it was quiet. All I could see was the clock…ticking. With every minute that went by, it felt like a day. So I just stared into space. And by space, I mean the wall in front of me on the other side of the room.

_What would I say? What should I do? God, please tell me the answer…Please…_

I figured that when the time was right, I would know. For now, though, I will wait and think. My mind went over all the different memories that me and Stan forged together over the years. The everlasting bond of friendship that we will always have because of it. I took it all in, taking a deep breath, and softly exhaling as I pulled out my phone and texted Kenny and Cartman. After a short while, they both agreed to come to the hospital as soon as they both could, which was at about 7:00 tonight. Satisfied with this, I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

I knew that I had to go see my friend first, even though, given the circumstances, he may not even want to see me because of embarrassment or whatever other reason he may have…but knowing that Kenny and Cartman are by my side the whole way makes me feel a lot better. We all want to see him. We are all here for him. And we will all get through this…together. But I, his best friend, the one he supposedly lacerated himself over, will have to see him first. Am I ready? Maybe. He _is_ my best friend, after all.

And as his best friend…it is my duty…

_Stan Marsh, I will always be here for you._

The door of room 154 opened, and the doctor approached me.

"Kyle Broflovski?"

I raised my gaze from the floor and looked at him intently and expectantly.

"He is awake."

**A/N – WOW. That is the longest chapter I have ever written for any story in my life. Stan is awake! So…what's gonna happen when he gets his surprise visit? Tune in for next chapter :P Hope you guys like the story as much as I like writing it! Oh, and please review! Haven't gotten any yet and I really need some input! Anyways, seeya next time :1**


	4. 154

**A/N – Back with the new chapter, Hope you all enjoy it, because there's more where this came from! PLEASE REVIEW! **

**Chapter 4 – "154"**

_**Kyle's POV**_

"Thank you, doctor." I said to the man who had just exited Stan's room. In response, I was granted a nod as the doctor walked past me and down the hall. My eyes followed him for a moment as I sat, head hung, my face pointed toward my legs. My arms were lazily draped over my knees, and I moved them to either side of myself, grasping the bench where I sat. I propped myself up and slipped my cell phone back into my pocket as I made my way across the hall to Stan's door.

Next out of the door were his parents. They had already seen him? I guess they didn't tell me he was awake earlier because they knew that I would've barged in on their private family time. They were absolutely right. I would have done just that.

"Kyle," Sharon began, "Stan's ready to see you. We told him everything you said, back at the pond. And everything you did today, waiting for him…"

She left Randy's side, approached me, and gave me one of the most loving, tender hugs I think I've ever experienced. I stood, frozen for a moment, not expecting that from her.

"I'm happy that my Stanley has a friend like you." She softly spoke. I put my arms around her in comfort as I looked at her, then to Randy, who just smiled, communicating to me that he was just as grateful. Sharon released me after a second, and put her hands on my arms, keeping them at my side as she gave me one more teary-eyed look, to which I responded with a nod and a smile of reassurance.

I stood at the door, waving Stan's parents goodbye, and grasped the doorknob to Room 154. Pushing the door open carefully as not to disturb, I slowly entered the single-patient room, eyes glancing over Stan, who was watching me intently. I paid it no mind. No use in acting all frantic, it could upset him. Glancing over Stan, I turned back to the door, pushing it shut, hearing the click of the door going back into place. The click echoed ever so slightly throughout the small room. You could hear a pin drop.

I turned to face Stan from across the room. His eyes never left mine, and mine never left his. He was sitting up, wearing an expression of…guilt? Anger? Despair? It looked as if he wanted to cry out, but he knew that nobody would answer. I tilted my head to the side ever so slightly, and bit the corner of my lip as I looked to the ground, inhaling audibly and giving a few short nods to the floor beneath my feet before looking back at Stan, who held the same, unchanged expression on his delicate face.

"Stan…" I began.

"Don't." Stan choked out in a hushed tone.

I exhaled softly. What could I say when I don't even know what's wrong?

"Please," Stan said, "Just don't."

I approached his bedside, pulling up a chair, and sitting down on it backwards, my arms folded over the chair's backrest as I looked into Stan's eyes, not saying a word. But trying to find an answer. Stan shifted his position onto his side facing me, and blinked at me, his composure getting noticeably more defensive. I outstretched a hand, watching him flinch a bit. Was he afraid of me? What happened to him? I landed my hand on his shoulder, like I always did.

"I'm glad you're awake." I said. Stan shifted his confused gaze to my hand, which still rested on his shoulder. He looked back to me, eyebrows raised in a sad glare that called out for help.

"You…you don't hate me?" He asked. I removed my hand from his shoulder and looked to his nightstand, at the picture of us. Stan followed my gaze. I knew he was, but I paid it no mind, once again. I picked up the picture and brought it down to my lap. I held it in both hands and stared down at it while Stan had his mouth halfway open, eyes darting back and forth from me to the picture, as if he were afraid of what I would say, or afraid of whatever was going to come next. Looking down at the picture, I thought of all the times we had together, all the adventures, all the laughs…and now here we sit, in a hospital room after his best friend attempted suicide.

I looked up at Stan once again, a tear streaming down my cheek.

"No, Stan…I…" I choked out as I began to feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Why?"

"…Because I wanted to sleep." Stan said painstakingly. I let a tear fall at that. So young, so much to live for, and yet…

I got off the chair, scooted it to the side and knelt at his bedside, our faces mere inches from each other.

"Stan…I don't know your pain. I don't know why you chose to do…that." I said, gesturing to his cut with my head. "Please…tell me what to do, Stan. I want to help you, but I don't know how!" I pleaded to him.

"Was it me? Was it my fault, Stan? Please I need to know! If it is me, then for your sake, I will never see you again if it means you will be safe." I continued. Stan's eyes grew larger by the sentence, and he looked appalled as he slowly shook his head.

"Kyle…" I looked up at him, tears pouring from my face in desperation. "I was in a place…it was dark." I listened to his words, clinging to anything he would say.

"I tried to think of what you said to me at Stark's Pond, but…the words just slipped away from my memory...I guess I'm just not strong enough. I never will be."

"Stan...it's ok." I said as I placed my hand over his shoulder and onto his back, pulling him closer, our foreheads touching. "Just remember…"

"I said it back then, and now, I will say it again. You are my best friend, and I…I can't go on, I _won't_ go on, won't face this world, unless you're right there beside me. And when we fall…"

I placed the picture between us.

"We will both be here to pick each other up, because that's what friends do. It's…what _I_ will always do for you. Now, and till the day I die. So no matter what you do, no matter what you become…"

I hold the picture against Stan's heart.

"I will _always_ be with you."

Stan sniffled, our foreheads detaching from each other. His lips trembled as he opened his mouth, shakily breathing as he looked at me with tear stained red eyes, not of sadness, but of relief, gratitude, and happiness. Happiness that I had not seen from Stan in a _long_ time. After a moment, I went in for a hug. Stan fell into my embrace with one of his own. No tears were shed, no sobs were heard, it was just me and Stan, locked in a tight embrace, neither of us ever letting go.

I ruffled his hair a bit. "And I'll never hate you, ok?" Stan just nodded into my chest.

"Thank you, Kyle. Thank you so much." Stan muffled into my jacket as he held on tighter, turning his head to rest on my chest, breathing easy.

"So, when are you getting out of here?" I asked after a minute.

"My parents said I can be discharged tonight if I felt like I was ready to go home."

"Hm…well, do you wanna stay the night at my house then? It would be fun!" I offered. Stan hesitated. "I trust you, Stan. I'm not your babysitter, I'm your friend. I just really wanna spend some time with you since it's been awhile."

"Yeah, that sounds good." He said. Ok, now I'm excited. It's been such a long time since we've hung out, just the two of us. This should be fun.

"Sweet! I'll call my mom and let her know, and you can use my phone if you want to tell your mom."

"Ok, thanks!" Stan said, lightening the mood with his usual demeanor. I'm so glad to see that in him again.

_Maybe…just maybe…I can fix you after all, Stan._

I glanced at my phone, noticing a text from Kenny.

_Kenny McComick: Hey dude, we're outside Stan's room, can we come in?_

That was five minutes ago. That's…awesome. They both showed up to support Stan. This should be good when he finds out, I thought with a bit of laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" Stan asked out of pure curiosity.

"Oh nothing, you just, uh…" I walked toward the door. "You have some visitors."

I opened the door to Kenny and Cartman standing on the other side, looking concerned and growing restless.

"Come on in guys, all is well." I said as I gestured for them to come in. Kenny was the first while Cartman squeezed in after.

"Hey dude! How you holdin' up?" Kenny cheerfully greeted Stan. Stan replied with a light, yet genuine laugh.

"Not so bad, Ken. Not anymore anyway." Stan subtly shot a look my way, but I don't think Kenny or Cartman noticed but I sure did.

"Yeah Stan, really. You had us shitting our pants, but I'm glad you're ok." Cartman said.

"Haha thanks Cartman." Stan said as he looked upon their relieved, smiling faces. "Thank you guys. I really am so lucky to have you all as my friends. Thank you."

"No problem man." Kenny said. "But if you ever try that again I think I might just come over and kill you myself!" Kenny said jokingly, earning him a smile from Stan.

"Ok, we should go, let you rest." Kenny said, Cartman agreeing. "When are we hanging out again Stan? I wanna get everybody back together soon. After all this, you could really use some normalcy." Kenny said.

"Uh..well, it _is _Friday, do you wanna hang out tomorrow afternoon? I'm up for anything." Stan said.

"Kyle, you good for tomorrow?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I have nothing going on." I smiled as Kenny put up a thumbs up.

"Sweet! I'll text you guys." Kenny said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Ey! Keeeny! What about me, dick?" Cartman complained.

"Dude, I already know you're free. I'll text you anyways though." Kenny said.

"Alright, alright you fucking better!" Cartman joked.

"Well, rest up, Stan. Glad you're safe and sound." Kenny said sincerely.

"Yeah, Stan." Cartman said, giving a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're ok."

"Thanks guys." Stan smiled as they left the room, letting the door click back into place. I turned and looked at Stan, who was noticeably happier after their visit. To this realization, I smiled.

"I'm so thankful for you guys, you know that?" Stan said, shifting his gaze toward me.

"We're thankful for _you_, Stan." I said. Stan looked into my eyes with a silent thanks. I returned the gesture, and walked back to Stan, handing him the photo of us.

"Your mom said you keep this on your nightstand at home." I said.

"Yeah, I have for years." He replied.

"Well you're not the only one." I said with a bright smile.

"I'm glad." Stan said. "You have no idea."

After a minute, I pressed a button on the remote attached to Stan's bed to call a nurse for discharge. Mr. and Mrs. Marsh were already down there awaiting the call, so they signed the discharge papers right away.

"Alright Stan. Let's get you outta here." I said.

"I heard that!" Stan exclaimed.

**A/N – Thanks for reading everybody! Next chapter will be up soon. More drama and stuff happening later, so please review with suggestions, because I'm taking all of them! Seeya next time!**


	5. I Will Never Let You Go

**A/N - Yo guys! Back with a new chapter, sorry it's kinda late (about a month late), but I hope you all enjoy and review anyway. Thanks for your patience, and happy reading!**

Chapter 5 ~ I Will Never Let You Go

"Aw dude you're done. I got you right where I want you." Stan said, grasping the controller, ready to beat Kyle's ass at Halo 4 again.

"God damn, Stan. It's like, not even fair." Kyle laughed, hopelessly dodging the grenade thrown at him from afar.

"What! No, it's totally fair, you just need to get better is all."

"Uh huh." Kyle said. Now wasn't the time to talk, now was the time to survive. Halo's intense. Nothing could draw Kyle's gaze away from the TV screen, except for when he died, which he just did.

"Ah shit." Kyle said dejectedly as he put the controller down on the ground. "I'm getting tired of dying the whole time, man."

Stan laughed as he brought his Coke up to his lips, took a sip, and lowered it back down onto the side table that stood next to him. "Sorry I'm too good" He said.

"Shut up Stan" Kyle laughed with his friend. "I'm just rusty. Do you have any idea how long it's been since the last time I've played this game? Or any first person shooter in general?"

"Apparently you never have in the first place." Stan remarked, earning a scoff from Kyle.

"Alright, alright. Really though, I'm getting bored of it. What else do you want to do?" Kyle asked.

"Hm. I don't know, any good movies?" Stan suggested, bringing a brightened expression to Kyle's face.

"Uh, well yeah let me take a look." Kyle said as he went to the TV stand across the room which held a collection of DVD's and albums. "My dad collects this stuff so we got pretty much anything you can think of."

"Sweet dude!" Stan exclaimed, excited about the possibilities.

"Ok…" Kyle dragged on, "We got drama, sci-fi, horror, action, you name it."

"Hm." Stan pondered. "Aw, dude, how about Casino Royale? You know, the James Bond movie from a few years ago?"

Kyle ruffled through the DVD's and found the movie. "This is a classic!" Kyle said as he inserted the DVD into the player and started back toward the couch. "Well, classic to _us_ I mean."

"Yeah dude, I love this movie. Start it up!" Stan said as he got comfortable, looking at the clock. 10:59 pm. That feeling of comfort among friends was present in Stan's mind. It's been awhile since that feeling was there, too.

Next thing he knew, Stan was opening his eyes to the bright TV glowing in the darkness. The movie was depicting the scene where Bond is performing CPR on Vesper, his lover, at the end of the movie. He remembered this part. It was so damn sad that whenever he watched it, he never wanted to watch it again because of all the emotions it made him feel. Even though Stan craved that kind of drama and the feels that it gave him were awesome, sometimes it could be so overwhelming that he needed to take a break.

Looking around the room, he spotted Kyle also fast asleep, curled up in a little ball facing the wall of the couch with a blanket over him. Stan's eyes lingered for a moment before they were cast downward, the floor suddenly becoming the dull center of attention. Taking a breath, he leaned forward on the couch, planting his feet on the soft carpet of Kyle's living room, and without any particular destination, tip-toed upstairs as not to wake anybody.

Creaking the door open to Kyle's room, he went through the door and into his room, stepping into the room full of familiar sites and surroundings that always made Stan comfortable. Except one: an acoustic guitar resting on a stand in the corner of the room. It had a green and black diamond-pattern strap attached to it. Stan raised a brow.

_Kyle plays guitar? Hm._

He made his way across the room, intrigued by this new site. Examining the ebony wood guitar closely, Stan picked it up to find that it was much lighter than he thought it would be. Also, it was made of freaking EBONY. You need a license to buy this shit, much less make a guitar out of it. It provides the clearest, purest sound ever possible.

_I gotta try this out._

Luckily, Kyle's room was in a separate part of the house, which makes it easy to make noise and not wake anybody up. _Kind of._ There's always that possibility that they could hear it from the walls, since acoustic guitars are deceivingly loud…but that's no reason to not play it. Kyle has a semi-roof just outside his window. Stan knew of this because he would climb up to it whenever he would find himself perched at Kyle's window in the dead of night. Deciding this was the best place to go, Stan made his way to the window that he was oh so used to going through.

Opening it quietly, Stan was pleased to find that it was moderately cold. A calming, slightly crisp cold is relaxing to Stan, and he was pleasantly surprised when he felt this unexpectedly during the night in the middle of a Colorado winter. Stan went to Kyle's bed, taking his coat which rested on it and threw it on hastily, leaving it unzipped because whatever. It's nighttime, who cares who sees. Not like sitting on your friend's roof with a guitar isn't already weird. Right? He climbed out of the window, stepping carefully onto Kyle's roof, which was dimly yet ambiently lit by the moonlight, which graced itself upon Stan's face. Finding his place next to Kyle's window, he sat down against the wall of the house, propping the guitar up with one knee, keeping his other leg folded under the other.

Feeling his fingertips against the nickel strings on the beautiful ebony fret board, Stan started to play. It was just some tinkering with single notes until he broke out into a slow, constant melody. The strings rung out like crystals chiming against a soft mallet. One of the only real songs Stan really knew how to play on guitar, "Spectrum" by Zedd was lightly and beautifully emitting from Kyle's guitar. Stan was always one to get into it relatively quickly, so as soon as he was ready, he broke out in song at the end of the intro, lightly singing the melody of the song with his delicate yet husky undertone.

"Breathing you in when I want you out, finding our truth in a hope of doubt, lying inside our quiet drama….." Stan sung, slowly and relaxed, but still carrying a tone and pitch that was unique to him. Nobody knew Stan was into music to this extent, mostly because he wished to hide it for fear of negative judgment by his peers. Kyle didn't even know. But, Stan didn't know Kyle apparently played guitar but that's a whole other mystery to him.

He strummed the small break after the lyric stanza he had just sung, and strummed the next chord in the verse. That's when something happened that he didn't expect. Not in the least. He heard the most beautiful voice that had ever blessed his ears, and quickly turned in surprise to find Kyle sitting in his window frame in his pajamas, singing the next part.

"Wearing your heart like a stolen dream, opening skies with your broken keys, no one can blind us any longer…." Kyle sung out in a brighter, but still pensive and light undertone.

_**STAN's POV**_

I smiled brighter than anyone else ever could right there and then. What were the chances that Kyle would actually hear me out here? Pretty slim, even slimmer that he would join in on my favorite song. It was like a super best friend duet we have going on here. My passion ignited my heart and I could feel it, right here, in this moment. It's like somebody rekindled my spirit from the darkness it resided in. The pain still searing in my arm was hardly noticeable. It burned a little bit from my nerves tensing up to play the guitar, but now it just seems like…nothing. I could feel a fire blazing inside my soul, and with that, I sang the chorus, Kyle harmonizing like my guardian angel the whole way.

"We'll run…where lights won't chase us, hide…where love can save us, I…will never let you go…"

I strummed away until I brought the song to a smooth ending, playing each chord, each note carefully as if I were a pilot trying to land a plane. A few seconds later, I strummed the last chord slowly, hearing each and every beautiful, sparkling note make its way from the guitar. And in that moment, I could not describe the feeling I had experienced. And I was afraid it would run from me, but I was consoled by the thought that somehow, some way, it would return soon. For the first time in a long time, I was truly alive.

I closed my eyes briefly, then casting them toward the moon, letting its light fill my eyes with its blue aura. That's when I saw Kyle sitting in his window frame, smiling at me calmly and…proudly? I wasn't quite sure, so I lightly smiled back, not a nervous smile surprisingly, but a heartfelt one which I can only imagine probably looks like the same smile Kyle comforted me with in the hospital.

"I like your voice." Kyle said rather bluntly but sweetly. I blushed. Nobody, not even Kyle knew this side of me.

"Heh heh, um, thanks dude." I said, probably turning red. Oh well, I was so happy right now that I really could care less what I looked like or if I embarrassed myself, so I gave Kyle a big grin. "I'm a fan of yours' too."

Now it was Kyle's turn to kind of turn red. "Oh, well thanks Stan. I didn't know you sang too. I thought I was the only one who did. Like, in my room when nobody was home."

"Dude, same here!" I exclaimed, coming to the realization that FINALLY somebody else does this exact same thing. Kyle laughed at this.

"Um," I continued, "do you ever use a TV remote or flashlight or something and pretend it's a microphone? Because I do all the time."

Kyle gave me this look that screamed 'no freaking way'.

"Dude…I do that all the freaking time! One time my mom even walked in on me doing that, actually."

"Really? Wow that's hilarious dude."

"No it wasn't, it was awkward as fuck! I tried to avoid her for the rest of the day and prayed that she wouldn't bring it up at dinner or something." Kyle admitted.

I laughed. I never knew this side of Kyle. He has a damn good voice, too! He climbed out onto the roof from his window frame, and sat next to me. 

"So you like the guitar?" He asked. I almost forgot that I pretty much took his apparently top-of-the-line guitar for a spin without him knowing.

"Oh yeah, sorry I didn't tell you, I was I guess…allured by it." I said pathetically. It sounded like I was scavenging for an excuse but in truth that is actually how it went down.

"So…" Kyle said, pondering his next words, "You were making out with my guitar?"

I looked at him in playful disbelief. "Really Kyle?" He punched me in the shoulder lightly as he laughed at my response. This in turn made me smile. A few seconds went by as I held the guitar like it was my newborn child.

"I'm glad we're friends Kyle." I said lowly. He looked at me with a look that switched from brief surprise to a small smile.

"I'm glad too Stan." He took my injured arm in his hands, lightly handling it with the care of a mother. I just let him, as I looked off into the distance, his guitar sitting in my lap, our faces gently lit by the moon.

"This still looks pretty bad, Stan. Do you ever have to switch the bandages?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"Nah, I was told to switch them in the morning. And it's really not that bad." I said, trying to stay off of the subject. Kyle saw this and didn't say another word about it.

"Well just know that I'm here, ok?" He said, holding my arm, and covering the red spot of the bandages gently with his hand. It was like he had a magic touch or something that made it feel better.

"Thanks Kyle." I looked into his emerald green eyes, which held a delicate gaze into my own; a look that only Kyle could ever pull off.

That's when I noticed that he was looking at _me_, not at my scars. He showed me that no matter how deep the cut, it didn't take away from what he thought of me: I'm his super best friend.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

**A/N – Hey guys! Sorry for the month of writer's block! Happens to all of us right? Ok, so onto the normal signoff spiel. Hope you guys review, I literally respond to everything, even suggestions and words of encouragement (or criticism) are also always welcome. I hope you savored the fluffiness of this chapter, because who knows what will happen next.** **Seeya next time, **_**probably **_**won't be as long as a month away this time. Later!**


	6. Big Brother

**A/N - I'm baaaaaaaackkkk! Hey, if you guys are still reading, thank you so much, and I'm sorry it's been like half a year. Anyways, fear no longer, because school is no longer killing me softly! All this time hasn't gone to waste, however. I have just finished writing an outline for the story from now, Chapter 6, through Chapter 12! And there's probably gonna be plenty more where that came from. I hope this is good news for most of you! **

**Ok, please, I'd love to hear some predictions in the reviews, criticism, comments, compliments, all is welcome in my review section! I'm replying to every little bit I get, so come stop by! I think most of the device apps let you review easily now. Alright, I'm done, I'm gonna stop myself before this note becomes longer than the chapter. Sorry for the wait, and enjoy!**

**~Chapter 6 – Big Brother~**

**POV: Kenny McCormick**

Cartman and I left the hospital pretty much as fast as we got there. I was appalled that I didn't see Stan in a condition that would've made me cry on the spot, but I guess that's a good thing. Thank God for Kyle, if anyone can get to Stan, he could. I've trusted him for years, looks like I wasn't wrong to do so.

Cartman's been emitting this haunting aura, surrounding him from the minute I picked him up to go over there. It lifted a little bit in the hospital but I'm not so sure that it's gone, which is really weird for him. You'd think that he wouldn't have cared in the first place, let alone care afterwards. I would say that people change, but it wouldn't have been the first time I said it about Cartman, and it also wouldn't have been the first time I was proven wrong by said assumption, either.

So we walked through the night, hoods up and hats on, the sun long gone behind the mountains in the snowy distance. The cool night air ruffles my hair, makes it dance in front of my eyes as we walk down the sidewalk without a word since our departure from the hospital. It was…nice.

"Kenny?"

I spoke too soon.

"Yeah, what's up dude?" I turned toward Cartman, eyes casually fixed on his, beckoning him to go on. He had this weird look on his face. Like it was awkward or something to talk to me.

"Do you have any, um…do you think…ugh." Cartman struggled trying to find the words.

"Heh, you're not asking me out are ya?" I chuckled at him, offering a smile. By the looks of it, a smile Cartman needed right now.

"Shut up Kenny," he smirked, "Don't worry, I would never."

"Ok, ok. Cartman, what's on your mind?" I brought it to a serious tip. "Is it about Stan?"

He kept walking, and put his head down, shakily exhaling toward the ground. That's when I stopped walking and turned toward him.

"It's about Stan, isn't it." I assumed, trying to hold a comforting tone in my voice, just in case he was about to break down in front of me. I wouldn't blame him. I wanted to do the same thing myself, but I guess I'm just better at holding these things in than Cartman is.

"Yeah. It's about Stan." Cartman let out shakily, as if he were freezing. He was still unable to look at me until he was done talking. After a pause, I led him over to a dry bench that was planted on the sidewalk outside Tweek Bros. Coffee Shop. It was cold, but at least it was wooden and will get warmer from body heat pretty quickly.

"Dude, you can tell me, he's my friend too. I'm here for you as much as you are or me. I think anyway."

"No, you're right. I'm here for you Kenny. I just..do you think Stan is gonna be ok?" Cartman asked, finally looking over at me with hopeful but saddened, tired eyes.

"Do I think—yeah, I think Stan will be just fine, and I think he would be really happy to hear that coming from you, dude."

Cartman rested his arms on his knees, leaning forward staring at the street. "I hope he would be. I don't know Kenny. That's what bugs me. I don't know. How do I know he won't try it again?" He said, voice breaking a little bit.

"How do I know it won't be worse?" He looked back at me, begging for an answer that I can't give him. I shook my head slightly and slowly at him.

"We don't know, Eric." I said. "We just have to have faith."

"Well what if faith isn't enough, Kenny? I can't just sit here, or at home, knowing that this could be going on just a few houses down! I won't sleep at night!" His words desperately shot from his mouth.

"I can't, Kenny! ...I can't!" He finished and let his face fall into his hands. He was frustrated. He wasn't crying, but he was damn ready to. I would call it desperate, unresolved, needing.

I just looked at him. I didn't know what to say this time. I was worried too. I don't know what will happen next. I don't know if I will wake up tomorrow and know that Stan is still here. I would say that I was just as scared as Fatass was. If not more. I put my hand on his back, patting him till he finally looked back up at the street from his hands.

"I don't know what to do Kenny, I really don't." He said.

"Yeah. I know how you feel, man. Truth is, we can't tell the future. We don't know what's gonna happen next." I said. "I do know, though, that Stan is in good hands. Your hands, mine, Kyle's…we're all a part of this, and I think tonight, Stan recognized that quite well. He knows we love him, I just think he needed to be reminded of it. Everyone goes through rough times in life, and I'll tell you, knowing that friends are with you is the only feeling you want to have when you are going through something like that. Believe me, I would know."

"Yeah. Yeah you would, dude. I haven't felt this sick to my stomach since you were lying in one of those hospital beds, just…dying right before our eyes…" Cartman reminisced.

"I don't think Stan's gonna try again." I said. "And I'm just gonna hold on to that. I'm gonna text him, check up on him, you know. It really helps, you should try it. It's like you're his guardian angel…friend. Or something."

"Yeah, you're right." Cartman said, looking over his shoulder at me. "Just gonna hold on tight. God I still can't believe it…"

"I know, dude… I know."

Moments went by, and it took a little bit before we finally stood up and walked back home. Cartman split first, seeing that his house was on the way to mine.

He turned over to me, came forward and landed a huge hug over me. "Thanks dude, for tonight. It helped a lot." He smiled.

"Hey dude, no problem. We're in this together, remember that. Hey, if you need to talk again, you know where to find me." I said as he stood, nodded, and inch by inch, turned back around and walked up the rocky path to his front door. I stood in the light shining through the window in the middle of the door, hands in my pockets, waving him off. He waved back and clicked the door behind him. I let out a soft grunt in satisfaction. Another feeling that is really nice: helping somebody who needs it.

I got home, opening my front door to the glorious sight of static on an old tv, food draping the walls and floor, ash trays that were tipped over, leaving the best smell ever, and of course, my deadbeat dad lying passed out on the floor amongst a pile of beer bottles and a handle of moonshine about 3 feet from his waist. I locked the door, and went over to him.

I placed my fingers on his neck, making sure there was a pulse, which there was. I find it troubling that it probably wouldn't have even mattered if he didn't have one. I never thought that I would end up thinking of my own father this way, but hell he's earned it. I find him like this most nights, like I find my mom haphazardly asleep in the full sized mattress that lies on the floor in the bedroom which is adorned with walls stained with a yellow tint. And of course, can't forget the occasional pipe she forgets to hide before she goes to bed. I usually try to hide it if she didn't, so that my brother and sister don't know about it. Best to keep them out of the situation as much as humanly possible.

I shut off everything in the house, now the only light was that of the full moon shining through the windows. The dark almost makes me forget how horrible this place really is. I walked into the bedroom I shared with my brother and sister to find that they were all still up. Huddled in a blanket, they shivered together and looked up, at first nervous, but then extremely happy to see me.

"Hey guys, how are you doing?" I asked, walking over to sit with them. They just shivered and looked over to me, smiling.

"Uh, ok I guess." My brother said. "Just another night, ya know, Ken?"

"Heh, yeah I'm familiar." I looked at them, smiling, trying to at least make the last thing they see for the night a good sight.

"Mommy and Daddy were fighting again, Kenny. It was scary, I think dad smashed a lamp or something." My little sister piped up, well, more like whispered. I just looked at her, unable to say really anything she hasn't heard before. She's heard it all from me by now.

"I know, Sis. It's scary. I remember when I was your age, I was scared too. Now I'm—"

"My brave big brother." She interrupted. I paused for a moment before smiling her way, to which she returned the gesture.

"So hey, I got something for you guys." I said, reaching into my hoodie pockets. I pulled out some yogurt, pop tarts, and some goldfish. They immediately perked up as I brought out the stuff I got while I was at the hospital.

"I know it's not too much, but hey, enjoy." I said, putting the stuff on the floor in the middle of all of us. It was like camping, all of us in a blanket, munching on the most food we've probably all had since this morning. Mom forgets dinner sometimes, and Dad's usually too drunk to really give a shit. Mom's been "forgetting" to feed us a lot recently. She probably just gets lost in her "me time" locked in her room. Nobody ever goes to check up on her, but I know what she does. And I have a feeling these guys are starting to get the feeling too.

"Thanks, Ken. I'll get it next time." My older brother said.

"Nah dude, don't worry about it. I'm sure you would do the same and that's enough for me." I said. I really am grateful to him for offering, but this is my responsibility. Or so it feels like. If my parents aren't going to do anything about their children going hungry in a cold single bedroom room every night, I sure as hell will. I am NOT letting that happen.

"Yeah, thanks Kenny!" My little sister looked up at me. It was almost painful. Seeing a pained smile behind such a beautiful face hurt a lot. But I don't show it, I just smile back like I always do.

"You're welcome, Sis." I smiled at her.

She was cold. _Really _cold, I could tell. The way she shivers, it's like I used to. It always felt like reaching deep inside yourself to find the deepest, most secluded part of yourself where there might be some warmth even though there usually wasn't.

"Hey Sis, you're cold." I said as I promptly took off my hoodie, leaving only a beater undershirt and a ripped up pair of jeans. "Here, take my hoodie."

I extended my arm over to her. She took it hesitantly.

"Won't you be cold?" She asked, obviously concerned. Yeah, I'll be cold, but it's a lot less painful than watching my little sister freeze to death.

"No, I'll be fine, just take it. I want _you_ to be warm." I said, shaking my arm, beckoning for her to take it, which she did, after another hesitant pause. It was big on her, by a comical amount, but hey. It's a blanket, not a fashion statement.

"Thanks big bro." She said, already starting to look a lot better. It almost numbed the cold enveloping my bare arms at this point.

"Wanna sleep with me? It's warmer that way." She went on. Hey, how can I refuse? Being warm sounded nice right now.

"Yeah sure Sis." I said. I looked over to my brother, who was just watching us contently.

"Night dude." I said to him.

"Yeah, night Ken. Thanks for the food. I owe you one. Next time you get to keep your clothes!" He chuckled.

"Haha, hey thanks. No problem bro. Hope you're somewhat full." I said, trying to keep the mood up.

"I am, don't worry. I hope you're full too. And you, Sis."

"I'm full!" She said brightly, bringing smiles across both mine and my brother's faces.

"Hey Kenny?" she asked, as I cuddled up next to her on the mattress.

"Yeah Sis?"

"Is your friend ok too? I asked God extra times for that." She said.

It brought tears to my eyes. My little sister was the sweetest thing in the whole wide world. I smiled deeply and nodded at her lovingly.

"Yeah…Yeah, he's ok, Sis. Thank you…so much." My voice almost cracked. I leaned a little closer and hugged her tight.

"I love you Kenny." She said through my hair.

"I love you too Sis." I replied.

"…I love you too."


	7. Comatose

**A/N – Ok, so I hope I'm getting better at this updating thing. At least it hasn't been like 6 months right? Anyways, Special shoutout to my reviewers so far, **

**DatLittleStar – Thank you so much, I'm so happy that my story suits your tastes so far!**

**RegularShowMemorabilia – Thanks for being so upbeat with your reviews, I'm so happy I have a follower like you **

**Jandralyn – Glad to hear you're liking the story so far!**

**Hope to hear from you all again, enjoy the new chapter!**

**~Chapter 6: Comatose~**

**POV: Kyle Broflovski**

The clock read 5:42 am. I looked up at it on the ceiling, I had one of those clocks that beamed the time up through a red light, projecting it on the ceiling; I've had it for a while now actually. I remember Kenny gave it to me as a present on my 12th birthday. That was 3 years ago, now…God damn.

My eyelids lazily hung from my face in the early morning, my eyes drifting toward the faint light of the rising sun peeking through my bedroom curtains. They were pretty thin, so the light just kind of shone through them, illuminating the room with this dim light blue aura. I found it calming, much more calming than the unusually horrible night sleep I had. I gave up on the thought of sleeping an hour ago. I guess I'm just so restless from all of the shit circling me at every turn lately. Makes sense right? I'm so tired that I'm not tired, and all I can do is wait out the night, hoping that I get the hour or two that thankfully, I got tonight.

But now, all I can do is stare at the light. It's…nice. Stan rustled in his sleep as my gaze was fixated on the window as I was lost in my daydream. I sat up on the pillow I had, leaning up against my dresser as a backrest. I tucked my arms away in a fold and took a deep breath, suddenly finding the ceiling quite interesting. Hm. 5:44 am.

Looking back down at Stan, I couldn't help but feel a melancholic uplifting of some sorts. Like I was suddenly happy but still reminded of a sadness deep down. That's right, all of the past events of the last 24 hours were coming back to me now. It all unrolled on me in a giant heap of self-realization.

I almost lost my best friend in the whole world yesterday.

I almost started to feel sick all over again; I couldn't bear the thought for very long, as I buried my face in my hands, letting a good sigh escape my lips.

"Kyle?" I heard from across the room. Startled, I brought my face back up to find where it was coming from. Folding my arms over my knees, I looked down at the obvious source of it.

"What are you doing up, sleepy?" I asked lightly, hushed so nobody could hear outside the room.

Stan gave me a concerned look. "I could ask the same to you." To this, I had no reply. I just looked at him, not really knowing nor caring what to say. I was just tired.

"Um. Dude, don't worry about it, it's all good." I said, scratching the back of my head through my mess of red curls. Stan got up without a word nor any other sound, took his pillow and blanket from the floor, and carried them over to the dresser where I was.

Dropping everything in a ball, he slid down the dresser next to me, letting his feet also slide back into the blanket he was in moments ago. He pulled it over me as well.

"Thanks, Stan."

"Hey, no problem, it's cold right? I'm surprised you don't have one."

"I did." I said, bringing my arm up to point at the pile of rolled up softness about 3 feet from where Stan was sleeping. "I don't know, it got hot and I couldn't fall asleep."

My best friend looked at me from the bottom up, finally meeting my gaze with a look that said he didn't believe me at all. "Kyle, I highly doubt that, it's like 3 degrees at night this time of year."

I swallowed, I wasn't really up to debating this any further than it had to go. I just offered a content expression, but Stan just kept staring. I felt just…nervous. Yeah, nervous was a good way to describe it, but I'm not sure why. His eyes are given an icy blue glint with the faint light of morning, and it's so captivating. Aside from that, I was just worried about him. I was so fucking worried about him.

"Kyle." Stan said, expecting an answer because he wasn't buying into the bullshit I was feeding him, as his tone obviously showed. I inhaled deep, and looked back at him.

"…I know that I keep saying that I'm here for you and all that…but…"

Stan looked at me with prying eyes, silently and curiously urging me to continue.

"It just feels like I—" I paused. "It feels like I'm still not getting to you. Like, the _real _you. I—I don't know why you did what you did, I don't know how I can fix it, I don't know how, Stan, I don't. And I think…I think it's killing me."

Stan's motionless face offered understanding, but still some reserve, like he had to think about how he was going to respond before he did. So he's still not going to tell me…I know this simply from a split second reaction from him. We're connected that way; sometimes it's a gift, and sometimes it's a curse.

"Kyle, I did what I did because at the time, I thought that it was my only way out of a place where I felt like I had died a thousand times. It's a place I never want to be again."

"But at the hospital, you wanted to be as far away from me as possible when you woke up until I talked to you. You didn't want my pity, and I tried my hardest not to give you any. It just feels like you wanted something else. Something you never told me."

Stan stared at me, not saying a word for what felt like the longest time. I stared back, hoping that I would get something. Anything that would tell me that he would be alright for real. After a few more moments, I finally spoke again.

"…They told me when they found you that you had this with you." I reached into my pocket, pulling out a photo folded in fours. I opened it, and Stan examined it in my hands, his eyes growing ever so very slightly wider.

"This isn't your fault Kyle. I want you to know that." He said, finally.

"You know," I continued, "my worst fear was that you did it thinking of me. That I failed you. That even with me around, you'd still want to do this. I'm scared that I will never be good enough. That's why…that's why I keep saying that I'm here for you, man…I want you to trust me, even with your life.

Stan smiled. "I will never make that mistake again…and you're all I need. I trust you with my everything, Kyle. I always will." Stan said, before dozing off once again.

I wrapped my arm around him, letting his head fall into my chest as he slept soundly. I put my head back onto my pillow, pinning it between my head and my dresser, before _finally _letting sleep take me.

**POV: Stan Marsh**

My eyes cracked open, and I was lying on the floor of Kyle's bedroom, clad in a blanket and probably one of the softest pillows I will ever sleep on. Kyle wasn't in here though. Seeing as it was now…10:20 in the morning, he'd probably woken up already. He always was the early bird. But last night, I could swear he was awake all night. It sure looked like it.

I can't help but feel that this is my fault. From what he told me last night, I'm imposing a burden on him. A burden I really don't want to give; it belongs to me. Hopefully I can keep away from—

"Stan?" Kyle poked his head in the door with some breakfast.

"Morning dude, you got breakfast?"

"Yeah, I have Perkins. My mom got us some."

"…Fuck yes." I said, suddenly feeling like I'm gonna start drooling at any second.

Kyle laughed, "Just come downstairs dude. Ike's at the dentist so we have the tv to ourselves."

Downstairs, Kyle and I sat on the couch, delving into the syrupy goodness that was Perkins takeout pancakes.

"Enjoying, I see. God damn, Stan you really dug in, Jesus dude." Kyle laughed as he switched through the channels, switching to see if Terrance and Phillip was on, which it was. That's when I got a little uneasy. Terrance and Phillip was the show _I _was watching when I...you know. I'm the kind of guy where I'm reminded of whatever mood I was in when I see something that triggers the memory that put me in said mood. It's kind of like shitty déjà vu. So seeing Terrance and Phillip on started reminding me of that night. The night I died a thousand times. I almost wanted to go up to the tv and just shut it off, but I disregard it and just try to enjoy Kyle's company.

"Hey Stan, why aren't you laughing at all? I thought you liked Terrance and Phillip." Kyle inquired. Must've noticed the sudden change in mood.

"Oh, I saw this one a million times. I'm kinda used to it now, sorry."

"Nah, it's fine dude, I get that way too. Just sucks because it always happens with one of my favorite episodes." Kyle said, taking another forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

"Yeah, seriously." I say.

A few minutes later, Kyle's phone buzzes on the table in front of us. He picks it up checking the messages.

"It's Kenny. We good to hang out at like…15 minutes from now?" Kyle said hopefully jokingly.

I just stopped chewing and looked at him, giving him my look that says "really…" 

"Alright, fine. I'll say 20 mins." Kyle said, grinning deviously to himself, texting back as I rolled my eyes. Classic Kyle, messing with me on purpose. We finished our plates and changed in Kyle's room before heading out.

"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked. Kyle never really did fill me in. Not yet anyway.

"Oh, Kenny wanted to play xbox at his house. I think."

"Sounds good."

We knocked on Kenny's door, and he opened up with a grin. He ditched the parka a while ago, I forgot about mentioning that. He kinda opted for expressing himself more in the recent years, because apparently it scored more women. So today, he was wearing somewhat tarnished jeans, a black tee shirt, and over it, an orange and black flannel shirt. He had wild dirty blond hair, kinda like what I would imagine Kyle's hair to look like if it were straight.

"Sup guys!" Kenny cheerfully greeted, giving out the classic handshake-hug combo. Kenny's always been friendly like that. Probably why he's honestly one of the absolute best friends I could ever ask for.

"Nothin much, Kenny, how're you?" Kyle asked, stepping inside with me. I could never help but nonchalantly look around his house. I felt bad. Like, why does God put a soul like Kenny's in a place like this? It's just…to put it nicely, extremely raggedy. I would never tell him that though.

"Eh, you know, same old. Just getting shit done and sleeping. What else!" Kenny laughed, shifting his eyes over to me. "How bout you, Stan? Arm feeling a little better today?"

"Still pretty fucked up, but I'll deal. I can still play video games though! Doctor said I could still use my hand lightly."

"I don't know Stan, pushing buttons can be pretty exhausting." Kyle said. I gave him the look again, this time with a knowing smile. I could tell already, Kenny was enjoying every minute of it.

"Keeny! Where'd you go Keeny! I just kicked your ass so fucking hard—"

"Hey Cartman." I waved.

"Oh, Stan and the Jew. Welcome to Haiti!" He said, obviously trying to push Kenny's buttons on the house situation. Kyle and I just looked at each other, shrugged, then looked at Kenny. He didn't really seem fazed. Partly because these days, either Cartman doesn't really mean it and is joking, or we've just heard the same line so many times that we just got used to it.

"Ah, shut up fatass. Who wants to play Xbox? I got Halo 3 in there."

"Oh dude, that's a classic! I'm so ready for this." Kyle said, making Kenny smile again. I smiled too, definitely in the mood to play some video games again. I don't really care if my arm is gonna hurt like a bitch. Which it will, but whatever.

We ended up playing a few rounds of matchmaking, just enough to get Cartman to literally start shaking the tv in his rage at the online community, much to our amusement. God I missed this. It's been way too long since we were all together just hanging out with some chips, Coca Cola, and a good old tv.

Then we played some forge. Basically, it's where you get to design, build, and play on your own map inside the game. Our imaginations went absolutely wild. One of us would hop in a tank, and someone else would grab it _while one of us was still driving it, _and start hurling it around the place. I don't think I ever laughed so hard to the point of tears. We were on that thing for _hours_. Hours damn well spent! Before we all knew it, it was like 6 o' clock at night. Everyone would be making dinner soon, so we decided to call it a day.

"Dude! I never had so much fun playing Halo. Seriously, that was fucking AMAZING." Kyle exclaimed at the rest of us. We were all still recovering from all of the laughter that exploded from our lungs in the past couple hours.

"Dude, I know. Best time ever!" Kenny said back.

"Hey Jew, I totally shredded you in that tank like ten million times. I've never felt so happy in my life!" Cartman said to Kyle, who brushed off the nickname that he sort of adopted as it was used more and more often.

"Yeah dude, I got revenge though. A lot." Kyle laughed.

"Alright guys, thanks so much for the fun times, let's do it again like, _really _soon!" Kenny waved at Kyle and Cartman, who were walking home side by side after they said their goodnights. At this point, it was just me and Kenny. God, I really hope this doesn't get awkward. His parents weren't exactly the most functional people. Or so I've been told. My parents never really exposed me to them a whole lot.

"Have a good time, Stan?" Kenny asked from the couch. I was leaning in his open front doorway, looking upon the orange and purple skies, watching my best friend and the fatass disappear behind a hill.

"Dude, I really, _really_ needed that. I don't think I've had this much fun in years." I said, entranced by the sky. Kenny flipped through the channels after readjusting the taped-up antennae on the tv.

"Sweet!" Kenny laughed. "So, your dad's picking you up, right?"

"Yeah. Apparently he bought this sick new sportscar after the divorce. Should be cool." I said in kind of an uncaring tone, like I was just talking to fill the gaps of silence between us. I just kept staring at the sky.

"Alright Stan, what's up." Kenny asked genuinely. I looked back at him, he was still flipping through the channels with a can of coke in his left hand.

"Nothing really. Just uh, you know." I said, scuffing up my shoes a little on the floor. I could feel Kenny looking at me. It felt like everyone was always looking at me these days. With pity. Honestly, I know that they care and are just trying to help, but I fucking hate the pity. I always have.

"Kenny, please don't look at me like that." I said, not even having to turn around to know what he was doing.

"Well dude, you really can't blame me for being a little concerned. This whole thing just happened like 2 days ago."

"I know, Kenny, but you don't have to worry. I won't be doing that again anytime soon." I said. There was a brief pause afterwards, as I could hear Kenny lowering the volume on the tv.

"I don't want you to do it ever, though." Kenny said, egging on the conversation.

I looked back at him.

"Neither do I."

There was another pause. He looked at me intriguingly. Like he was trying to figure something out or like he was a doctor examining for a wound.

"Come sit here." He said, looking at the tv again for a little bit.

"Oh, my dad's gonna be like—"

"Your dad lives 20 minutes away and you called him like 10 minutes ago. Come on, let's just chill for a little. My parents won't be home till late." Kenny insisted. I don't really mind it, I just didn't really want to get any damn pity from anybody. I guess I'm wrongfully assuming though. Kenny _is _my friend after all.

I sat down on the couch with him, looking at the tv, which was playing a recording of the Daytona 500. Typical Kenny, Nascar lover.

"So you never told me, and I understand if you never wanna tell me, but—"

"Why did I do it?" I finished for him, leaving him silently looking at me with his mouth hung halfway open. He closed it, and put his can of coke on the table. 

"Look. I get it if you don't feel like talking about it," Kenny said tentatively "but if you do, I can always be trusted."

I laughed a little bit at that.

"Stan. Come on, when's the last time I spilled the beans about anything?" He asked matter-of-factly.

"Well for the better part of your childhood, nobody really knew what you were even saying so—"

"See! I'm dependable!" He laughed. I gotta say, he's really easing up tension for me. I would be ok with that, but part of me feels like he's winning. Like he's getting to me. And I _hate_ to think of my friend like that.

"Kenny, how is it that your parents are so distant yet still together? I don't get it."

Kenny sighed. "Well, it's complicated. To be honest, I stopped thinking that they were even together a long time ago."

"But they're married still, aren't they?" I asked, making a puzzled face. Kenny looked at me seriously for the first time tonight. It was a light seriousness, though. He almost embodied a therapist or a counselor or something.

"Marriage is just a legal bond. It has no meaning unless both of them actually love each other enough to fulfill it." Kenny said. He always was wise when he wanted to be. That's why I love Kenny. He could put things into a perspective that I could never dream of perceiving.

"Like this," Kenny began again, waving around the house as if he were showcasing the sights, "this isn't love. This isn't a marriage. Even if on paper it says it is."

"But how do you live with it? It's only been like a month and I'm falling apart, Kenny." I said. I could feel my eyes getting glassy. Kenny looked on, his eyes piercing mine, almost as if he knew everything. That he knew I had to let it out.

"You need to stop focusing on the happiness that you used to have when your parents were together. The past is the past. Now look, based on what I've witnessed, your parents may be going through a rough patch, but they are still at least somewhat friendly toward each other. On top of that, when it concerns your well-being, they still put you first ahead of their problems. I can't tell you how much I wish I could have that. Not just for me, but for my brother and my sister too."

I looked down. I almost feel ashamed. I thought I had it horrible because I was split between two parents, when I completely forgot that they still care for me…

How could I be so stupid?

"I'm sorry, Kenny." I say, unable to really come up with a response to what he just told me. He gives his thanks, but once again puts me as his focus.

"You don't have to be sorry. I want to help you because you're in a similar boat as I am. Can't expect to get through it alone, right?" He said, offering me an optimistic smile.

"I'm not alone. Not while I have you guys. You're all quickly becoming the last light that I have." I said.

"Well, what are friends for, Stan?" He says with another smile. "If you really want some advice," Kenny continued as I looked back at him from my lap with glassy eyes, "you need to tell me why you did it. And it needs to be the truth."

I looked at him, my composure noticeably becoming more and more defensive.

"Stan, you need to let it out. Believe me. It really is the first step to feeling like yourself again…For real this time." He said. I never broke our eye contact. I could feel my eyes getting heavy. Kenny was reaching inside of my soul, talking straight to my heart, offering me a way out. An escape from this wretched depression. I nodded to him shakily, gathering the courage to open my mouth, leaving it hanging halfway open.

"You…you need to promise me you'll never let it leave here, Ken." I said. He nodded slowly.

"I promise, Stan. You can trust me."

"I..I think I might like Kyle, Kenny…" I scratched the sentence out, pulling what needed to be said for so long out of my lungs.

Kenny gave me a smile and nodded again. "Good, Stan. Good. How do you feel after finally telling someone?"

I just stared, bewildered. I didn't know whether to be happy or cry. The weight was lifted so high off of my shoulders that I just didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to feel. I said something that had been turning inside me for months, something that would surely be friendship-wrecking, and Kenny doesn't even flinch at it.

I just let out a happy half laugh, half cough. I couldn't be happier. It was _genuine_ happiness. Happiness that I haven't felt in a LONG time. Kenny continued to smile at me, only enlightening my newfound optimism.

"See, dude? I knew you would feel better. Your secret is safe with me. I have to say though, I kind of thought you were into each other even back in third grade. I'm so happy for you though, Stan. And I don't think I could be prouder to have a friend who is as courageous and loving as you." Kenny admired.

"Kyle would be absolutely blessed to have you." He concluded with a nod and a light smile. I let a tear fall and let myself slowly fall into a hug. I could feel Kenny rest his chin on my head as I did so.

"And I'll be with you…every step of the way." He said after a moment.

That's why I love Kenny. He is the only one I have ever met that could truly make everyone he touch…turn to gold.

**A/N – Hope you guys liked the new chapter, WOAH! This one was 4059 words long! Guess you guys deserve it for waiting on me for long periods of time. Anyways, more to come, so come say hi and leave a review! I'll get back to everybody. Good night!**


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